


Quixotic

by gmariam



Category: Torchwood
Genre: M/M, Post-Episode: s02e01 Kiss Kiss Bang Bang
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-17
Updated: 2015-08-22
Packaged: 2018-04-15 03:37:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4591503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gmariam/pseuds/gmariam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"We capture aliens, we chase psychotic time travelers, we save the world. We don't do romance." But maybe they could…and maybe it would even be romantic. Jack and Ianto's first date after Jack returns.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 6.30

_6.30_

As with so many things having to do with Torchwood, or perhaps just them, even first dates didn't go as planned.

Not that it was actually their first time having dinner together, and not that it had anything to do with Torchwood. Yet it seemed as if the shadow of both hung over them from the start.

The Rift had been quiet the entire afternoon, and Tosh had assured the team it should be just as quiet that night, as well as the next few days. And so everyone had gone home early, even Ianto. If he was going to follow through with Jack's invitation and go on an actual date with the man, then he was going to separate it from work as much as he could—at least this first time. Who knew where it would go after that, if anywhere. Probably right back to where it had started, knowing Jack: quick shags in the archives, longer ones in the office. He had no expectations whatsoever, because he knew Jack.

Or he thought he did, anyway.

They were meeting for a late dinner and movie, which was exactly what Jack had proposed several weeks ago, just after he'd returned from his trip with the Doctor. It had seemed to be an impulsive invitation that Ianto had accepted without really thinking about it, flustered by Jack's unanticipated return, John Hart's unwelcome appearance, and the unexpected invitation. Yet apparently Jack had been serious, because he had kept his word, trying to plan their date for the last fortnight.

Unfortunately, after the debacle with John Hart, the Rift had run them ragged every day since. They'd barely had a chance to talk let alone grab a quick take away on their own. And the sex they'd once had just about everywhere in the Hub? Ianto knew he wasn't ready to jump into bed again, but apparently neither was Jack, and that thought concerned Ianto more than anything: Jack Harkness, asking him on a date but not propositioning him for casual sex? Something had changed.

Ianto knew that Jack had been through a lot while he had been away. He didn't know quite what had happened, except that it had been far longer for Jack than it had for them, and that Jack had suffered a lot because of it. He was a changed man in more ways than Ianto wanted to acknowledge. He didn't say anything, but it made him even more angry at the Doctor, that Jack had waited years for the man, only to go through hell for him. It seemed cruel and unfair, and it was one of many reasons that Ianto would not back out of his spontaneous acceptance of Jack's date: he did not want to add to Jack's pain, not when Jack seemed so sincere.

Ianto went back to his flat, poured himself a drink to calm unexpected nerves, and set about getting ready for their date. He hated thinking of it that way, but that was how Jack had asked him and that's how Jack had referred to it since. And so it was official: a date with the immortal man who also happened to be his boss and one time secret lover.

Only at Torchwood. Sometimes Ianto was fairly certain his life couldn't be any more messed up and any less romantic.

After a quick shower and shave, he pulled on a pair of dark khaki trousers and was debating whether or not to wear a tie with the dress shirt and sports coat he had chosen earlier when there was a sound at the door. Knocking back the rest of his drink, Ianto hurried to answer it, silently cursing the interruption. He was supposed to meet Jack at the restaurant in thirty minutes, and it would take him at least twenty to get there. Yet when he opened the door, he was surprised to find Jack standing in the corridor, looking almost as awkward as he had in the office block two weeks ago.

"You're still here," he said by way of greeting, then offered a genuine smile. "Good."

"I'm still getting ready," Ianto replied, trying not to sound confused. "I thought we were meeting at seven?"

"We are," said Jack with a nod. "But I wanted to do the proper thing and pick you up."

Ianto raised an eyebrow. "Proper and perhaps a bit old-fashioned for the 21st century?" he suggested, and Jack gave him the look he had when he pretended to be hurt.

"Proper and romantic. There's no such thing as old-fashioned when it comes to dating. So are you ready, or may I come in and wait?" He leaned forward, glancing around Ianto's flat curiously.

Ianto could have kicked himself for his lack of manners, even with Jack. "Since we're doing this  _properly_ , please come in. I'll be done in a minute."

"You look ready," said Jack, following him inside. "You look great. I love the coat."

Ianto rolled his eyes at the compliment; he didn't do compliments, especially unexpected ones from Jack that sounded genuine. He wanted to accept it and preen a little, but it felt too strange. "That's my line."

"Well, you haven't used it in a while, so I figured I could borrow it." Jack winked and began to poke around the flat. "It looks different in here. I like what you've done."

Ianto shrugged in self-conscious response. Yes, he'd done a bit of redecorating while Jack was gone. Before that it had not felt like much of a home, but he hadn't cared given how much time he spent at the Hub. Yet after Jack had disappeared, he'd found himself staring at the blank walls and hating it. Tosh had helped him turn it into more than an empty flat, and it finally felt like his own space. The project had helped them both cope with Jack's disappearance, and they had found his newly decorated flat to be a comforting retreat at times from the insanity that was Torchwood some days (and nights), as well as a reminder that life continued outside the Hub.

There was a soft purr from around his ankles, and Ianto glanced down to see his other nod to domesticity curling around his feet. Jack looked down in surprise as the cat began to wrap herself around his legs as well.

"Apparently she likes you," said Ianto, nodding in surprise and with a touch of relief. "She hasn't stopped hissing at Owen."

"You have a cat," said Jack, as if it were the most amazing thing in the world, and again Ianto shrugged.

"Her name is Branwen." Before Jack could even say anything, Ianto shook his head. "And no, I did not name her. Gwen did. We found an abandoned box of kittens after a retrieval near some railroad tracks. I adopted most of them out through the tourist office once Owen made sure they weren't alien, but for some reason this one would not leave me alone."

"I can understand why," Jack murmured; Ianto ignored him again. "So Gwen convinced you to take her home?" Jack knelt down before Branwen and started scratching her ears, then running his index finger down her nose. The purring increased exponentially, and she quickly flopped onto her back to allow him easy access to her favorite places for petting and rubbing.

"No, Tosh insisted I take her home, Gwen insisted on naming her. Tosh also helped me with the redecorating after she came by to check on us and saw how pathetic it was." He laughed to himself when he remembered Tosh's reaction to his dark, dull flat: she'd immediately begun planning the renovation over dinner and hadn't stopped until it was finished over wine and dessert. Ianto was grateful for everything; Tosh's friendship, a nicer flat to come home to, and a cat to cuddle with had all got him through many difficult nights.

"What else did I miss?" Jack asked, standing up with Branwen nestled snug in his arms as he continued to play with her, teasing her by dangling his fingers out of reach so that she kept reaching up with her paws to grab his hand. "You're not hiding any more domestic secrets, are you?" He sucked in a breath as soon as he realized what he had said, eyes wide with panic. "Gods, Ianto—I'm sorry. I didn't mean it that way—"

Ianto rolled his eyes, not the least bit offended by Jack's slip; if anything, it was another sign that Jack had moved past Ianto's betrayal. "I know. And no, that's about all. Bit of redecorating and a cat. No engagement ring, no wedding, nothing like that."

Jack looked contrite as he set Branwen down on the floor. "I never even asked if you were seeing anyone, did I?"

"I wouldn't have accepted your invitation if I was," Ianto pointed out. He suddenly felt uncomfortable with the direction the conversation was taking and turned back toward his bedroom to finish getting ready before things grew more awkward. "Make yourself comfortable, I'll be out in a minute."

"Need help?" Jack called.

"Not when I'm trying to get dressed instead of undressed," Ianto called back over his shoulder, hiding his smirk. He had missed this, the banter with Jack. As uncomfortable as he felt with the idea of a date, he was looking forward to the chance to spend time with Jack outside of work. Which, when he thought about it, was exactly what a date was; Ianto shook his head at his ridiculous line of thinking.

"We could just skip dinner," Jack suggested. He had followed Ianto into the bedroom and was standing at the door to the ensuite as Ianto ran one last comb through his hair. He glanced at his reflection and decided to forgo the tie as too formal, too much like work. He met Jack's eyes in the mirror.

"Nope," he said with a grin. "You said dinner, so we're going to dinner."

"And a movie," Jack added as Ianto brushed past him, ignoring the spark that Jack's touch sent through him. It never failed to amaze him, though now it confused him as well, because Jack had been gone for months, and Ianto had wanted so badly to get over Jack. A part of him still wanted to, but deep down he knew it wouldn't happen, not when a simple touch still did such things to him.

"And a movie." Ianto grabbed his wallet and keys from the dresser and motioned toward the door of the flat. "After you, before you get any ideas."

"Hey, I've been good, haven't I?" asked Jack as Ianto followed him this time. He made sure Branwen had food and water, gave her a quick pet goodbye, and turned off the lights before heading out the door.

"That's what worries me," Ianto replied, locking the flat behind them. They headed downstairs and out to the car park next to his building. Ianto took one look at the SUV and shook his head. "Company car for private business, Jack? For shame."

"You never know what might come up," Jack said. "It is Cardiff, after all."

"Tosh said the Rift should behave," Ianto replied. "Let's take mine." Without giving Jack a choice, he headed toward his Audi.

"Can I at least drive?" asked Jack. He sounded exceptionally earnest, as if it were important. Ianto shook his head.

"No, you may not. My car, my keys, my hands on the steering wheel."

"But I wanted to pick you up," Jack said, reluctantly climbing into the passenger door.

"Why? We could have met there just as easily, and you wouldn't have had to drive all the way out here."

"I thought it would be more romantic this way," said Jack. Ianto gave him a sideways look.

"So where are my flowers?" he asked dryly. Jack grinned.

"On the passenger seat of the SUV, you Welsh prat."

Ianto stopped halfway out of the parking space. "You're joking."

"No, I'm not," Jack replied. "I told you I wanted to be romantic."

Ianto shook his head as if to clear it of confusion before he started driving again. That was the third time Jack had used the 'r' word and Ianto was not sure what to think. "Jack, we don't do romantic. We're not like that."

"Why not?" Jack asked. "I bet you were romantic with Lisa."

"That was different," Ianto protested, though he knew exactly what response that would get.

"Why?"

With a sigh, Ianto steered the car toward the upscale restaurant where Jack had made reservations. "I don't know. It just was. This is us. We capture aliens, we chase psychotic time travelers, we save the world. We don't do romance," he repeated. Why he was protesting so much, he wasn't sure. But as soon as he said it, he realized he'd made a mistake. He knew Jack, who would now take it as a challenge to disprove him.

"That doesn't mean we can't try," Jack replied, giving him a funny smile that Ianto couldn't quite place. He reached over and took Ianto's hand, holding it all the way to the restaurant. When Ianto parked the car, Jack leaned over and kissed him, long and hard before he motioned Ianto to stay seated, then hurried around the front of the car to open Ianto's door for him.

They headed into the pub, walking close, and Ianto let his mind wander as the hostess led them to their table. It wasn't the first time they'd kissed since Jack had come back, but it had somehow felt different. This was really a date. Jack had come to pick him up, brought him flowers, and opened his door. Jack wanted romance.

This was new, and Ianto wasn't quite sure how to deal with whatever it was. But if he could chase a Weevil down a dark alley, then Ianto could deal with Jack Harkness attempting a bit of romance. Maybe he meant it.

And maybe it would even be romantic.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quixotic: extravagantly chivalrous or romantic; visionary, impractical, or impracticable; impulsive and often rashly unpredictable. (from dictionary dot com)
> 
> I've covered the post-Cyberwoman, post-Countrycide, post-Something Borrowed, and post-Adrift requirements for Torchwood fanfiction (though they are not all posted here yet, sorry!) As a dutiful fan, I now attempt the first date. A short story of six chapters, this was originally posted last year in honor of Ianto Jones's birthday, even though it has nothing to do with his birthday. Enjoy and thank you for reading!


	2. 7.15

_7.15_

Jack glanced up to find Ianto frowning at his menu. "Something wrong?" he asked casually, attempting to hide his nerves. He was trying, he really was. He wanted to enjoy an actual date with Ianto, not take away-with-Torchwood or a quick fumble in his office. He wanted to get to know Ianto better, to spend time with him, to maybe even develop something more than the colleagues-with-benefits relationship they'd had before Jack had left with the Doctor.

Yet he was getting mixed signals from Ianto, who had haltingly accepted his invitation to go on a date but not spoken about it since. Although Ianto had been nothing but professional with Jack, even starting to slowly return Jack's banter and flirting, it felt as if Ianto wanted to maintain his distance most days, friendly but wary. Jack was still unsettled after experiencing the nightmarish year that no one else had, and wanted…no, needed… Ianto to ground him. He wanted their date to be perfect, the first step in moving on, growing closer.

Ianto glanced up, eyebrow quirking at the concerned look on Jack's face before he set down his menu with a smile and took a sip of the expensive wine Jack had ordered. The candle set in the center of the table threw shadows across his face. "Not at all. I can't decide what to have."

"What do you have a taste for?" Jack asked, placing his own menu on the edge of the table. Although he had not been to the upscale restaurant for quite a while-years if not decades, given his lack of serious relationships-he knew exactly what he wanted.

"Not sure about that either," said Ianto.

Jack narrowed his eyes, wondering if Ianto was referring to more than just dinner. "I'd go with your instinct then," Jack replied, offering an answer to more than one problem. Ianto set his glass down and nodded, and awkward silence descended.

It had been that way since they'd arrived. In fact, there had been moments of discomfort since Jack had surprised Ianto by showing up at his flat to pick him up. Jack had just wanted to do things right, bring a little spontaneity and romance to the night. He wanted to enjoy himself away from Torchwood, and more importantly, he wanted Ianto to enjoy the evening as well. Yet something was keeping them from relaxing with one another, and Jack missed that feeling more than anything.

With a sigh, Jack leaned back. "I'm sorry this is so awkward," he said with a bitter shake of his head. Ianto raised another eyebrow.

"Why's that?" he asked, enigmatic and tight-lipped as ever. Though Ianto had changed in many ways while Jack was gone, he still maintained that calm façade no matter what he was thinking or feeling inside.

"Why's what?" Jack replied, frowning with confusion. "Why is it awkward or why am I sorry?"

Ianto tipped his head as he picked up his wine glass again, a small smile quirking at his lips. "Both?"

Jack leaned forward, Ianto watching him closely. "Look, I'm sorry that it's awkward because I wanted tonight to be different-to be romantic, special." He waved his hand at the closed menus. "Not this."

Ianto set down his glass and leaned forward on his elbows as well. "Jack," he said in that way Jack loved to hear, round vowels and clipped consonants. "I'm not sure what to order. That's all. It doesn't happen often because we order nothing but Chinese, Indian, and pizza at work."

Jack grinned stupidly, but Ianto's thoughtful look and next question wiped the smile from his face.

"Do you feel awkward?"

Jack didn't know what to say and reached for his water instead. Ianto leaned back with a sigh. "I see. You're transferring."

"I'm what?" Jack shook his head. "You think I feel uncomfortable, and I'm accusing you of it instead?"

Ianto shrugged. "Are you? Feeling uncomfortable, I mean?"

"I don't want to," said Jack, quiet yet honest, but at that moment the waiter returned to take their dinner orders. He coughed to get their attention, and Jack glanced up to give the man a smile before rattling off his selection. Ianto didn't even open his menu to make his choice, and Jack raised a curious eyebrow.

"You did know what you wanted."

Ianto ducked his head and spread his napkin on his lap. "No, I didn't. I always get that dish. I wanted to try something new, but…" He looked up to meet Jack's eyes. "Sometimes it's easier to stick with what you know."

He was definitely not talking about dinner.

Jack swallowed and reached across the table to clasp Ianto's fingers in his own, pleasantly surprised when Ianto did not pull away immediately even though they were no longer in the privacy of the car. "And sometimes you have to take a risk to find out what you really want."

"I'm trying," Ianto murmured, squeezing his fingers before putting them back in his lap. "It's just…"

"Awkward?" Jack offered, perhaps a bit too flippantly, but Ianto shook his head.

"No, not that. It's…different. It's not us-picking me up, bringing me flowers, fancy restaurants with candles and-"

Jack held up a hand and stopped him. "I want this to be different, Ianto. Can't you see that?"

"I can see it, Jack, but…" Ianto shook his head and emptied his wine glass, obviously unwilling to finish the sentence. Jack had an idea of where it might be going, and poured Ianto a second glass with the hope that he might keep talking. They might as well get it all out on the table now, so that they could enjoy the rest of the night.

"But what?" he asked, trying not to dread the conversation he knew they had to have sometime. Ianto did not answer right away.

"What are we doing, Jack? Why are we really here?"

Slightly taken aback by the blunt question so early in the evening, Jack sat back and took a deep breath. He had been expecting something else, and any answer he thought to offe seemed inadequate. "We're on a date, Ianto, because that's what people do in this century. People who like each other and want to spend time with each other, get to know one another better, have great sex together…" He couldn't help it; the conversation was already growing too serious, and he threw the last line in to get a reaction, raised eyebrows and all. He was relieved when he did, although it was not the one he had anticipated.

"That's what I mean, Jack!" Ianto exclaimed, then lowered his voice and took a sip of water instead of wine. "You had no problem with that last before you left. I suppose I don't understand why you're so interested in the former."

"You mean, why would I want to spend time with you and get to know you better?" Jack was completely confused.

"You didn't before," said Ianto. There was no bitterness to his words, but Jack felt them like a slap in the face nonetheless. "Neither of us did. We had sex, Jack. A lot of brilliant, mind-blowing sex, but we didn't do flowers and candles and dates."

"And you want to know why…what's changed." Jack understood, and he felt like his chest had been kicked in. Ianto sensed it and this time it was he who reached across the table and briefly squeezed Jack's hand. Jack was once again reminded of how much Ianto had changed: more confident in so many ways, because Ianto would have never reached for Jack's hand before, let alone asked so directly about their unconventional relationship.

"I'm sorry, Jack. I'm trying so hard not to wonder, not to doubt, but…" Ianto shrugged. "You are a book of secrets. Secrets that can hurt people." The unspoken 'me' was implicit.

"You don't trust me." Jack had sensed it, known it deep down, but it still hurt to say it out loud.

"You left without a word." Ianto met his eyes, his gaze unflinching.

"You betrayed me," Jack pointed out, and Ianto flushed as he turned away. He looked like he was struggling with an angry reply, so Jack continued. "And I forgave you, Ianto. I know I hurt you, and I'm sorry for that. Can't you forgive me for my mistakes?"

A slow nod let Jack start breathing again. "Of course I can, Jack. I forgave you months ago, once I understood why you left. That's different, though."

"I know." And Jack did, he really did. Trust and forgiveness were completely different things. When Ianto had betrayed them all with Lisa's presence in the Hub, Jack had quickly forgiven him, because Ianto had been acting on desperate love, not trying to recreate a Cyber army. Yet it had taken longer for Jack to trust the Welshman again. And now their positions were reversed: Jack had hurt Ianto, and while Ianto had forgiven him, it would take longer for Ianto to trust him once more.

"You think I'm going to leave again someday."

"Are you?"

"You already asked me that, the day I returned."

"And I'm still trying to understand your answer."

Jack wanted to growl with frustration. Why was this so complicated? Why couldn't they enjoy their date and go from there, putting the past behind them to look toward the future? He didn't want to think of the past, he wanted to move on, and he suspected Ianto did as well, given how much they had both endured over the past year. What was the problem?

Right. Jack running away again. Trust.

He took another breath. "I meant what I said. I came back for you. I thought about the team a lot while I was gone, but I realized I wanted something more with  _you._  Why is that so hard to believe?"

"Because I don't know what happened to you out there. Something changed your mind. Something changed  _you._ " Ianto once again held his steady gaze, but Jack had to look away without an answer. He had been a fool to hope that Ianto would just accept him back, no questions asked. But he wasn't sure he could answer those questions.

The silence stretched before them once more, awkward and disappointing, until it was broken by the waiter appearing with their food. They thanked him quietly and tucked in without a word, Jack avoiding Ianto's gaze even though he could feel the man's blue eyes watching him closely.

"How's yours then?" Ianto asked. Jack looked up to find Ianto smiling, as if encouraging him. He knew the conversation wasn't over, not really; Ianto was a man to stick to his principles, and though he had never pushed for answers before, Jack sensed this was different. If only Jack could let himself open up, but it was so hard for him, even though he knew what he wanted, what he needed.

"It's good, how about yours?"

"It's quite good." Ianto nodded, took another bite, and swallowed. "I think I'd like to try something new next time, though."

Jack raised an eyebrow, trying not to let hope stir in his chest. "Really? Next time?"

"It's a nice restaurant. Classy." He paused. "Even romantic."

"I thought we didn't do romance," Jack pointed out, holding back a grin.

"Risks and all that," Ianto shrugged.

"It'll be worth it," Jack offered sincerely. He was relieved when Ianto laughed, even though it wasn't the response he had intended.

"Oh, I'm sure it will be worth it," Ianto replied, then stopped and met Jack's eyes. "I just don't want to regret it."

Jack set down his knife and fork, humbled by Ianto's vulnerable admission. "I don't want to hurt you."

"I don't want to get hurt," Ianto replied quietly, looking down at his plate.

"Neither do I," Jack murmured, and Ianto glanced up in surprise.

"Taking a risk yourself, then?" he asked casually.

"I know what I want, and it's definitely worth it."

The small quirk of an eyebrow and soft smile did more to quell Jack's fear than anything else. Ianto nodded in understanding, and from that point the conversation began to flow more freely around other topics. They both grew more comfortable, and Jack felt like maybe, just maybe, the night wasn't a loss after all.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit more serious, I know. The next part is lighter but quite short. I do hope you're enjoying it. Thank you for reading!


	3. 10.00

_10.00_

"Ianto?"

"Hmm?"

"Want to have a snog?"

"No."

"Ianto?"

"What, Jack?"

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why don't you want to make out?"

"Because I'm not sixteen anymore."

"So what? I never let age stop me."

"You don't actually age, Jack."

"I'm over a hundred years old, you know."

"Don't remind me, I feel like we're committing a crime when you do. And I'm trying to watch the movie."

"Are you really?"

"Yes. Aren't you? You picked it."

"I was, but not anymore."

"Why not? Because you want to have a snog?"

"No. Well, yes, I do, but…well, it's not very good, is it?"

"How so?"

"Ianto, you must recognize bad science fiction when you see it. Time travel doesn't work like that!"

"Know that for sure, Jack?"

"As a matter of fact, I do. Would you like me to tell you what's wrong with it?"

"Now?"

"Yes, now. I'm bored."

"But I'm watching."

"Torchwood is more exciting than this on a slow, rainy day, Ianto."

"Are you suggesting we go back to work for the rest of our date?"

"No, but I could think of something else."

"Snogging?"

"That too. What if we go somewhere and talk?"

"About what?"

"How bad this movie is, for one."

"Where?"

"Someplace romantic."

"We don't do romance, Jack."

"We survived the restaurant. Come on, let's try it. Trust me."

"Jack…"

"All right, trust me  _tonight_. I know the perfect place. Do you have a blanket in your car?"

"Of course. You never know when I might have to toss an alien in the boot."

"Good man. We can stop for coffee on the way. What do you say?"

"I'm just wondering what took you so long to suggest it."

"What?"

"The movie is shite, Jack. I wanted to leave twenty minutes ago."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"I wanted to see how long you could stand it. Come on, you can tell me how time travel really works in the car."

"Deal. Coffee first, though. I need it after that last bit of techno-babble."

"Tosh would have had a fit over the inaccuracies."

"And Gwen would have still been lost."

"I thought I might fall asleep during the chase scene."

"They've obviously never chased Weevils through the back alleys of Cardiff."

"Think we should write them a letter telling them they got it all wrong?"

"Nah. Let them think it's that easy for a bit longer. They'll figure it out soon enough."

"Know that for sure too?"

"Actually, I do. Come on, let's go."

"Right behind you, Jack."

"Oh, I wish."

"Coffee first."

"Then?"

"Time travel second."

"And then?"

"We'll see."

"Sounds promising."

"Could be."

"And maybe even romantic."

"Keep walking, Jack. Before we get sucked into the next ridiculous plot twist."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short interlude of sorts, posted early to keep you going! I hope you enjoyed it. Next chapter is back to narrative and a bit longer. Thanks for reading!


	4. 11.15

_11.15_

Blanket tucked beneath his arm, Ianto followed Jack into the darkness and toward the coast. Jack had asked if he could drive, as he'd had a specific destination in mind and hadn't wanted to spoil it. Ianto had reluctantly handed Jack his car keys and enjoyed the thirty-minute drive to Whitmore Bay. They laughed about the movie, poking fun at the absurdity of the plot compared to the reality of their jobs. Though it was late, there were still quite a few people out on the boardwalk when they arrived, so Jack led Ianto off the path toward one of the grassy hills overlooking the beach.

Fortunately, they were alone. Ianto thought for sure that they would run into scores of teenagers snogging and fumbling about on the grass. Jack took the blanket and shook it out, throwing himself down, kicking off his shoes, and motioning Ianto to join him. He sat down carefully, making sure Jack saw his raised eyebrow and skeptical smile.

"Is there where you usually come on the pull?" he asked lightly. Jack laughed as he laid back and stared up at the sky, hands behind his head.

"Nope, first time," he murmured. "And I'm not on the pull." When Ianto didn't reply, Jack propped himself up on his elbows and grinned. "I do think about other things besides sex, you know," he said. He patted the blanket closer beside him. "Join me. Please."

Ianto laid down next to Jack, close but not touching, and stared at the starry sky. It occurred to him that Jack had been up there, roaming those very stars, only two weeks ago. And now he was back, lying on a grassy hill by the beach with Ianto. Before Jack said anything, Ianto took a deep breath and spoke.

"Why did you really come back, Jack?" he asked quietly, making sure to keep any sense of accusation out of his voice. If he expected Jack to grow tense or sigh with frustration, he was surprised; Jack did neither and spoke evenly.

"I thought we talked about this already," he said.

"A bit," said Ianto, keeping his eyes on the stars. "We never quite finished, though."

Jack was quiet for a long moment. "Why is it so important to you?" he asked. "To know?"

Closing his eyes, Ianto took another breath and leapt. Jack had the disarming habit of answering a question with a question, but if Ianto was hoping for any sort of honesty and openness from Jack, which was the only way anything between them would work this time, perhaps Ianto had to offer it in return. "I know so much yet so little about you, Jack. I know how you like your coffee, your scotch, even a blowjob, but I don't know where you're from or what your life was like before you came here. I don't know when you came here or why." Another deep breath. "And none of us really know why you left, so trying to understand why you came back is even harder."

He paused, curious to see if Jack would offer any answers, then continued when the other man stayed silent.

"I look up there, at the stars," he raised his arm and waved it, encompassing the dark sky above them, "and know your home is somewhere out there. Your heart is out there, Jack. It's obvious you belong among the stars." He let his hand fall back to behind his head and sighed. "I guess I don't understand why you would come back here, to us, when you had all that to live for instead."

Jack turned on his side to face Ianto, tapping him on the shoulder to get Ianto to look at him. Propped up on one elbow, Jack ran his free hand over Ianto's face, smiling sadly.

"I traveled with the Doctor, a long time ago. And I waited even longer to meet him again," he said. "Over 130 years, actually." Ianto couldn't help inhaling in surprise. He'd known Jack was older than he looked, but he'd never suspected Jack was that old, even with the odd bits and pieces of evidence he'd come across in the archives. Jack laughed quietly at Ianto's reaction.

"I know—I look good for my age, don't I? I came here in 1869, hoping I'd find the Doctor. He refuels his ship using energy from the Rift. I figured if I came to Cardiff and waited, eventually I would run into him." Jack sighed and flopped over onto his back again. Ianto kept watching him from where he was now leaning on his elbow.

"Unfortunately, it took until just over four months ago for me to run into a version of him from the right timeline—the one who had already met me and abandoned me on a gamestation in the future."

"Abandoned you?" Ianto asked. His voice was quiet, but he heard the sharp tone. The Doctor had abandoned Jack in the future? What kind of man was this Doctor, to earn such loyalty yet treat someone so poorly?

"I told myself he thought that I was dead," Jack whispered, his eyes falling shut. "Turns out he knew I wasn't and left anyway."

"Oh, Jack," Ianto murmured, shaking his head. Of course there was more to the story, but already Ianto couldn't even begin to imagine how heartbreaking it was. He braced himself as Jack continued.

"I ended up stuck in 1869. And I do mean stuck because this," he tapped his wrist strap, "shorted out as soon as I arrived. But I blended in and lived as best as I could in that time, although I started to notice that I wasn't aging. About twenty some years later, I was shot. And I was dead, really dead, only I came back to life in the morgue. After it happened a few more times, I realized it wasn't going to stick. I couldn't die."

Ianto had no idea how to respond, what to say. He wanted to reach out to Jack, reassure him, but it was decades ago, what could he say? He couldn't relate, he could barely wrap his mind around the fact that Jack had been living on Earth for over a century, unable to die. Jack glanced up with uncertain eyes, as if seeking validation in what he was saying, or permission to continue his bleak story. Ianto went with his gut instinct, leaned forward, and kissed Jack lightly on the lips, a brief touch of reassurance and acceptance. The smile he received in return was blinding not in its charm and personality, but in its relief and gratitude.

"What did you do then?" he asked, hoping the question didn't derail Jack's openness.

"Well, I still needed to find the Doctor, because I wanted answers as much as a way out of the nineteenth century and back to my own time. But the nineteenth rolled into the twentieth, and the twentieth rolled into the twenty-first, and still no Doctor."

Ianto frowned, because something didn't make sense. "But there are all sorts of references to the Doctor in the Torchwood London archives. Christmas was practically a regular visit for him."

Jack laughed, a bittersweet sound followed by a crooked smile. "Some of those weren't the right Doctor. A lot of them I missed. I stayed close to Cardiff most of the time, hoping he'd be back to refuel. Then he'd end up in London, but was always gone by the time I heard about it and got there. Or he'd be in Cardiff while I was away. And don't get me started on the time my past self showed up with him in Cardiff, still mortal, and I had to lockdown the base so no one saw me."

"Time travel," Ianto murmured, trying to imagine such a situation while wondering what Jack had been like so long ago.

"I told you the movie had it wrong." This time Jack's laugh was more genuine. After a moment he stopped and glanced at Ianto before going on. "But then he showed up on the Plass four months ago, and I wanted to say something, to say goodbye, but there wasn't any time. I had to find the answers I needed. I barely made it as it was."

"But you did." Jack nodded. "And you traveled with him." Another nod. Ianto wanted to ask whether Jack had found his answers, but that question seemed more personal than anything else he had asked so far, and the one thing Ianto knew was that if he pushed too hard, Jack would likely retreat. Instead, he continued with what he had started. "Why aren't you still out there, traveling through time and space?"

Jack was silent for a long time. He had said so much already that Ianto worried Jack might not be willing to share anymore. And then one of those serendipitous insights he sometimes experienced prompted Ianto to ask a different question.

"How long were you gone for, Jack?" Blue eyes flashed in surprise. "Sometimes you look at something differently," Ianto said. "Like you can't believe it's still there. And sometimes you just look sad, as if you missed something while you were gone. You were on a time machine. How long was it for you?"

Jack turned away and let his eyes slip closed, but Ianto was relieved to see his face relax, even a small smile touch his lips as he replied. "You know everything, don't you?"

"I try my best," Ianto replied, chuckling quietly, his heart leaping when Jack joined him.

"It was a year," Jack finally answered, but his voice was weary. "A very long, very difficult year. I tried to get back, I really did…but I couldn't."

Ianto reached for Jack's hand and held it tight, as much to support Jack as to ground himself. An entire year. No wonder Jack was different. And it had been a difficult year as well, which explained so much without revealing anything more. Ianto realized at that moment that he did not need to know the rest of Jack's story; he just wanted Jack to be happy. "But you survived, however difficult it was."

"I always survive." The bitterness had returned to Jack's voice.

"You came back," Ianto said. When Jack didn't respond, he added softly, "And I'm glad you did."

Jack propped himself up again, staring into Ianto's face with a look of both fear and disbelief. "You are? Even after I left without saying anything?"

"Well, a post-it note would have been nice." He hoped Jack picked up on the teasing tone in his voice. "Maybe a phone call from Alpha Centauri."

Jack hung his head, eyes closing against some sort of difficult memory. "I wasn't anywhere near Alpha Centauri. And I didn't have a phone." He laid down again with a sigh.

Ianto watched him, sensing Jack's suffering and sorrow, and noting all the other subtle differences he'd picked up on since Jack's return. It was hard to watch the man lying across from him, knowing that Jack was in pain and that there was nothing Ianto could do about it except be there when Jack was ready to tell him more.

They were silent for a while, both wrapped up in their own thoughts. A part of Ianto wanted to keep talking, but he had his answer, however vague it was. Jack had been gone for an entire year, and it had not been a good year. Something bad had happened to him, and that had brought him back to Cardiff. Having gone through his own fair share of traumatic experiences in the past year, Ianto could understand that desire for familiarity and safety. He accepted Jack's return and could even begin to believe in the sincerity of Jack's words. It would still take time to truly trust that Jack was back with them and staying, but Ianto felt like it was a beginning, at least. For the first time that night, he allowed himself to relax completely and laid back down, a smile tugging at his lips as he stared at the sky.

Jack had left the stars behind to come home.

Without warning, the object of his thoughts was hovering right above him, gazing down into his eyes. "What're you thinking about?" Jack asked. "You're not upset, are you? About some of the things I said?"

Ianto was filled with a rush of affection for the man. He reached up, placed his hand behind Jack's head and tugged him down until their lips were almost touching, letting his fingers drift over the back of Jack's neck.

"Of course not. Thank you for telling me. I know it wasn't easy."

"I'd like it to be," Jack murmured, and Ianto swallowed at the implications, whatever they might be. He took a deep breath.

"I was thinking that this has been a wonderful night. Romantic, even. Thank you, Jack."

Jack eyes widened as Ianto pulled him forward the rest of the way and kissed him. It started slow at first, a hesitant brush of lips as he tried to keep in check the rush of feelings Jack's closeness brought forth, particularly the strong attraction they had shared since meeting. Ianto did not want to rush things; they had done that already, before Jack had left. He wanted to do things differently this time and sensed that Jack did as well. But when Jack made a soft sound, almost a whimper, and his tongue tentatively sought entrance past Ianto's lips, Ianto knew that neither of them would be able to hold back.

Ianto opened himself to the kiss, all the pent-up and buried passion of the past four months bursting forth as he eagerly claimed Jack's mouth, their tongues battling for dominance as they fought to explore one another and rediscover all they had missed during Jack's absence. Ianto's other hand came up to Jack's face, and then both trailed slowly down the man's back to wrap around his waist. Jack's hand began running up and down Ianto's chest, cupping his chin, then trailing through his hair and down along his side to his hips. This time it was Ianto who groaned, and he felt Jack grin against him. Yet if he expected Jack to make some type of innuendo-laden quip, he was surprised.

"I missed this," Jack murmured, pulling away from Ianto's lips to look at him with such heartfelt sincerity that Ianto felt his breath catch. "I missed you."

Dimly aware that he was, in fact, now snogging like a teenager, Ianto threw caution to the wind and went with it. They were alone on the beach, they'd had the beginning of a proper talk about Jack's absence, and he had to admit that it was sort of romantic. In a strange, only-with-Jack kind of way that exhilarated him as much as it scared him. There were times he would do anything for Jack.

"I missed you, too," Ianto returned, just as softly. With another grin, Jack threw his legs over Ianto's hips and practically attacked him with heated kisses. He could feel Jack's arousal, and rubbed his own against the man above him. It had been so long since he had experienced this reckless feeling that he wanted to relish in it, and he sensed that Jack did as well. They needed this. They had always connected best physically. To reconnect after Jack's absence, maybe that's what they needed as much as talking.

Ianto reached for the front of Jack's trousers, thrilled with the gasp of surprise his forwardness elicited from Jack. Unfortunately, before he could do any more than tug down the zipper, they were interrupted by a torch shining brightly in their faces. Ianto squinted against the sudden light while Jack let his head fall with a groan.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, stealing one last kiss from Ianto before a cough sounded above them.

"All right, that's enough, boys," growled a thick Welsh voice. "You're a bit old for this, don't you think?"

Ianto snorted as he sat up and straightened his clothing. "That's what I said." He was embarrassed…but not as much as he might have been. It was an odd feeling, but then, sometimes Jack had that effect on him.

"And I told him age should never stop a man from getting what he wants," Jack offered as he rolled off Ianto and zipped up his trousers.

"Get what you want at home. Or get a room. This is a public beach." The police officer shook his head. "I should ticket you for indecency."

Jack stood, hands on his hips. "Yes, well, don't bother. We're Torchwood and we're on a stakeout."

The copper looked skeptical. "A stakeout? You expect me to believe that?"

Ianto let his head fall to his knees. Now he was embarrassed. Jack held his ground, though, leaning closer to the police officer.

"It's probably the most boring stakeout I've ever been on," he said, as if sharing a secret. "But with a gorgeous Welshman? I can't help it if things…happen." He winked and offered his trademark blinding grin to the officer.

The man didn't seem to know what to do with Jack. He stepped backward and stuttered a bit. "Yes, well…er…just make sure it doesn't happen again, yeah? Save the shag for after work."

"Aye aye, captain," Jack replied. "Sound advice from Cardiff's finest."

The police officer just stared at Jack a bit longer before shaking his head. "What were you staking out, anyway?"

"The stars," Jack replied. The man opened his mouth, seemed to think better of it, then walked away, still shaking his head. Ianto was fairly certain he heard, "Bloody Torchwood" under the copper's breath.

"Well, getting arrested would have been quite romantic," Ianto offered, standing next to Jack and watching the retreating back of the police officer. "But I'm glad we don't have to call Tosh to bail us out."

Jack turned toward him and grinned. "Would have been a hell of a first date," he said.

"Nope," said Ianto, leaning down to pick up the blanket. Jack grabbed the other corners and they folded it together. "I don't do jail time until at least the third date."

Jack threw back his head and laughed, then pulled on the blanket, tugging Ianto close to him.

"You're amazing, you know that, right?" he murmured, gazing intently into Ianto's eyes. Ianto raised an eyebrow and tried to deflect the compliment, uncomfortable with the intensity of the moment.

"Of course," he said. "All part of my secret plan."

Jack quirked an eyebrow. "What plan is that?"

"Wouldn't be secret if I told you," Ianto countered. He winked, Jack growled, and with a grin Ianto leaned forward for a quick but passionate kiss. As he made to turn around, Jack took his hand and squeezed it.

"This is why I came back," he said. "This."

Ianto nodded, unable to speak as his throat unexpectedly grew tight with emotion, and together they walked back to where they had parked, hand in hand. This time as he gazed up at the stars, Ianto smiled. Jack might go back to the stars someday, but for now he was there, on a date, walking hand in hand under those same stars with Ianto.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can't you just totally see these two grown men snogging on a blanket only to get caught by a copper? And wouldn't Jack totally pull the Torchwood card? Well, I could see it! I suppose I could end it here, but the date really isn't over. Thank you so much for reading!


	5. 12.30

_12.30_

"There's a pub down the street, if you wanted to get a drink," said Ianto, hands in his pockets as they walked slowly across the pavement toward the building that housed Ianto's flat. Jack gave him a raised eyebrow, although he was glad to have the opportunity to spend more time together, and even more happy that Ianto had suggested it.

"Bit late, isn't it? For the pub?"

"They're open and it'll be busy, but we should be able to find a seat, maybe shoot some pool?"

Jack stopped and stared. "You play pool?"

"I've been known to, yeah."

"How about that."

Ianto rolled his eyes and cocked his head down the street. "Come on. Nightcap's on me. And I promise not to embarrass you too much."

"Oh, you think you're a pool shark or something?"

"I know I am." Ianto laughed as he turned and headed down the street. "Just ask Owen."

Jack did a double take. "What? How would he know?"

"Might have played him under the table a few times while you were gone," Ianto replied with a shrug, then ducked his head to hide a grin as they walked. The night was cool but clear, the street quiet. As they neared the pub, however, Jack was surprised to see that Ianto had been correct: it was quite busy, and they had to take two seats at the bar instead of a more private table. Jack ordered a double bourbon and some chips for them to share, while Ianto asked for a pint of the IPA on draught.

"So you not only play pool but drink fancy beer now as well," Jack teased. He watched as Ianto turned and gazed around the pub before taking a large sip of his drink.

"I might have taken up skeet shooting, too," he stage-whispered, leaning closer.

"What?" Jack was taken aback for a moment, but then Ianto started laughing and patted his knee a few times, sending unintentional sparks up Jack's leg.

"I'm kidding, Jack. We don't have the right equipment in the Hub."

Jack nodded, trying to find his footing again. "I'm sure I could requisition it," he offered.

"Already did," Ianto replied, and then winked at Jack's wide-eyed reaction. "I'm joking again. I've got my eye on a pool table for sub-level one." He gestured toward the back of the pub. "Look, one just opened up. Fancy a game?"

"Sounds good," said Jack. This was new and unexpected. This was not his plan, not his idea of romantic, but then again, maybe romance came in different shapes and sizes. The restaurant had been nice, once they'd got past the initial awkwardness, but the movie had been terrible. The trip to the beach had not turned out exactly how he'd hoped either, since getting run off by a police officer for snogging in public had definitely ruined a good time. All things considered, he should be glad Ianto wasn't so disappointed or mortified that he'd insisted on going straight home after that.

Ianto took off his sport coat, rolled up his sleeves, and began to set the table. Jack did the same, trying not to stare at Ianto as he moved. Ianto was obviously comfortable here—casual, relaxed, and enjoying himself. Jack was entranced by the sight and so glad to be there that he could have watched the Welshman for hours. He was also struck by a feeling of regret, that they had not done this sooner and that he had missed his chance while he had been gone, but shook it off, determined to enjoy the rest of the night without falling into melancholy over might-have-beens.

"So what else did you do while I was gone?" Jack asked, the question appearing so unexpectedly he couldn't stop it from leaving his lips. Then again, Ianto had asked him about his time away; it seemed fair that Jack ask the other man what had happened while he was gone. "Besides fleece Owen."

Ianto motioned at Jack to start the game and break. He leaned lightly on his stick, watching the table closely, as he seemed to gather his thoughts.

"Mostly worked. Got a cat, redecorated, saved the world. Started coming here during my extremely rare free time." He chuckled. "I used to play pool at university and picked it up again as a distraction. I worked on my game so if the Rift was quiet and we had a chance to go to the pub, I could be sure to take down Owen."

Jack let the cue ball go and watched the rack break apart; it was not a particularly strong break, but fair, and he somehow potted a red. "So the team went to the pub a lot?"

"It helped us cope," Ianto replied quietly, looking down at the floor. Jack watched him until Ianto looked up, met his eyes, and shrugged almost sheepishly. "It was hard, Jack. We were down a man, and not just any man. We were down our leader. There were days I was surprised we all survived." His gaze turned inward, as if recalling the long weeks and months that Jack had been gone.

"But you did," Jack pointed out, and Ianto nodded, then waved at the table so Jack would take his next shot. He missed, handing the turn over to Ianto.

"We did," Ianto replied, lining up his shot. "Though we all had our fair share of injuries and breakdowns. So we coped afterward. A new place opened not far from the Hub called the Dockside, and I suspect we were some of their first regulars."

To his surprise, Jack found that thinking of his team bonding around a beer without him filled him with as much pride as loneliness. He decided to focus on the former and not the latter. "Take me sometime?" he asked, hoping his nerves didn't show—at least not as much as they had in the office block.

"Might do," said Ianto, and he was smiling as he potted two yellows. "They've got a good lunch special on Tuesdays if you're interested."

"It's a date then," said Jack, and Ianto grinned as he let his stick fly again. He was good; he put another ball in the pocket, and Jack worried that he might not even get another turn. He thought about distracting Ianto so he'd miss the shot, maybe a subtle brush against his thigh or a whispered breath across his ear, but he wouldn't do it, not yet; maybe next time they played, since Jack was enjoying himself tremendously. Fortunately for him, Ianto missed the play, and Jack moved forward to examine the table.

He shouldn't have bothered trying; Ianto won the game easily, and Jack bought their second round of drinks to celebrate before they started again.

"You really did run a game on Owen, didn't you?" he asked as watched Ianto expertly break the next set, sending the red and yellow balls streaking across the table so fast and so precisely that Jack could barely follow them. He shook his head and whistled under his breath, entranced by the other mans' easy grace as he moved around the table.

"You didn't believe me?" Ianto asked, sinking another red in the far pocket; Jack knew he was doomed.

"Of course I believed you," Jack laughed. "You did shoot him, after all, so why wouldn't I believe you'd school him in pool and take his money?"

Ianto went still, and Jack mentally kicked himself because he'd obviously said the wrong thing in mentioning that particular incident. It had been a difficult time for them all, and the consequences had resonated for days, but it had also been so long ago that Jack had simply assumed it was not an issue anymore. He'd had no sense of any ill will between the two men; in fact, they seemed to have got along better while Jack was away.

"I'm sorry," Jack murmured, and Ianto nodded curtly before taking his shot. But the subject must have thrown him off, because it went wide, bouncing harmlessly off the cushions.

"It's fine," Ianto said, standing straight and offering a rueful smile. "We've moved past it, but—"

"So have I." Jack rushed to reassure him. Ianto had been following long standing orders when he had shot Owen, trying to protect the Rift because he knew how dangerous it could be. And Jack had said as much to him later that night, when Ianto had handed in his report; he remembered how Ianto had merely nodded silently before turning to leave without another word.

"You don't know the half of it," Ianto murmured. His entire countenance had changed, from casual and relaxed to sad and distant. Jack frowned and opened his mouth, but Ianto motioned at him to take his shot, and Jack rather spectacularly sank both the cue ball and the black ball. He hung his head and swore under his breath. When he glanced up, Ianto was smirking, but there was no sparkle to his eyes, and he silently took his turn, completely ignoring Jack and relentlessly potting three more balls before drawing his own fault.

"What do you mean?" Jack asked as he moved around the table to play his own shot. He figured it would be easier for Ianto to talk when he wasn't concentrating on his turn; as Jack was certain to lose regardless, he didn't mind being distracted by conversation. "Is Owen still giving you a hard time for that?"

"Depends on what you're referring to," Ianto replied. Jack glanced up, almost hearing an unspoken 'sir' at the end of the sentence.

"This is off the record," he said, making sure Ianto understood. "I'm not asking as your boss."

"As my boss, I can tell you that Owen only gives me a hard time when I threaten to shoot him in the other shoulder."

Jack thought it would be all right to smile, so he nodded and turned back to the table. "All right. That's good. In a twisted sort of Torchwood way."

Ianto snorted lightly just as Jack let the stick slide forward. The sound startled him enough that the cue slipped and hit the ball too hard, and he ended up potting one of Ianto's balls. He turned toward Ianto to make a comment about that particular turn of phrase and was met with an epic eye roll.

"Don't bother. I can hear you thinking it."

Jack laughed and was relieved to see Ianto smile, albeit not as broadly as he had ten minutes earlier. He was silent while Ianto played his turn, trying to understand what it was about his comment that had bothered Ianto so much.

They finished the second game as quickly as the first, Ianto easily claiming victory as Jack allowed himself to be distracted by his thoughts. He begged off a third game and glanced around, spotting an open booth tucked in a corner. He pointed Ianto toward it and went to the bar for a glass of water and a soda, then joined Ianto, sliding in across from him and studying the man carefully as he gauged how to resume the conversation from earlier.

"You were right," he said, twirling a packet of sugar in his fingers. "You're good."

"And I've got the fifty quid to show for it too," Ianto said, raising his glass in the gesture of a toast.

"So why did my comment about shooting Owen bother you so much?" Jack asked, hoping to catch the man off guard. It worked, for Ianto stuttered into his glass before setting it down, wiping his mouth, and frowning.

"That's quite a non-sequitor. What do you mean?"

"I mean, as soon as I made a joke about it, you closed up. I thought you were both past it. What did I say wrong?" He wanted to know, so that he didn't keep making the same mistake, for one. He also cared about Ianto and wanted to be sure Owen wasn't treating him badly behind Jack's back. And regardless of his personal feelings, it was his job as leader to make sure their working environment was safe and comfortable.

Ianto sighed. "It's nothing you said, Jack. It's just me. I overreacted. It's fine, really."

"I don't think so," Jack said, reaching across the table and brushing his fingers gently across Ianto's wrist before sitting back and fixing Ianto with a serious look. "I know there's a lot for us to work through, but I'd like to think we made a start tonight. And I'd hate to think that beginning was over already."

Ianto toyed with his glass a bit before he pushed it away and folded his hands in front of him. "It's nothing. And if it is, it's between Owen and me. Nothing's ruined, Jack. You're right, we made a good start."

"I don't believe you," Jack said. "You're not looking at me anymore, nor are you answering the question. It's something to do with me and Owen, isn't it?"

Blue eyes flicked up and widened. "No, it's not, not really. It's definitely between him and I."

"You can tell me, you know," Jack said. He wished they were in a less public place, because he sensed this was important, and he wanted to reach out and comfort the other man as best as he could.

"I know, Jack." Ianto sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. "And I'm not keeping secrets, I promise. It's just…well, personal. Bit embarrassing, actually. We've already talked about some of it, so I'm just letting the past get to me, I suppose."

"Talked about what?" Jack asked. He was curious, but he was also concerned.

"Jack…"

"Ianto." Jack leaned forward and this time took Ianto's hand, holding it tight. Ianto glanced down at their entwined fingers, and Jack felt him twitch against the touch. He squeezed, willing Ianto to look at him and holding tight as he decided to take the first step. Ianto had done it at the beach, and now it was his turn, as scared and uncomfortable as he was.

"I told you I was gone for a year," Jack said quietly. "And that I wanted to come back, but I couldn't because I was held prisoner." This time Ianto squeezed Jack's hand, though he didn't say anything, the look in his eyes expressing it all. "I wasn't exaggerating when I said it was a long, difficult year. I had a lot of time to think, though, and I thought about a lot of things. About you and Torchwood and the team. I thought about what happened in 1941…" He trailed off at the expression on Ianto's face and cursed himself again for bringing up his trip to 1941. Like Ianto shooting Owen that same day, it was obviously still a sore point.

"It wasn't like that," he whispered, desperate for Ianto to believe him. The other man nodded and offered him a small smile.

"I know."

"No, I need you to understand. I—"

"We already talked about it Jack," Ianto interrupted. "It's still none of my business."

"Yes it is! And I want to talk about it again." Jack took a deep breath. They had skirted around it at the time, and then the Rift had splintered, Jack had died, and there had been no other opportunity to talk about what had happened at the dance hall in 1941. "I'd already lived through that time, Ianto. I fought in both world wars, and when Tosh and I were trapped in that dance hall, I thought I was going to have to relive it all over. I promised her I would take care of her, but I was screaming inside at the thought of going through it all again. I…well, I lost hope, in a way."

Ianto did not say anything, silently understanding, so Jack continued.

"When I first met the Doctor, it was in 1941, in London. I had taken the name Jack Harkness to blend in. Being back in that time again, meeting the man whose name I had stolen and finding him to be so…so much better than I ever was…I latched onto the first thing I could when I lost hope, and it was him."

"You don't have to explain, Jack," Ianto said. "Really."

"But I do," Jack said. "Because while I was at the dance hall, you were here, trying to get us back yet shooting Owen in order to stop him and protect the world from the Rift. You did the right thing, and all I could think about this past year was how I hadn't. How I had let my mind run away with things and then let you down. Again."

Ianto squeezed Jack's fingers and let go, sitting back to take a sip of his drink before setting it down and meeting Jack's eyes. "Believe it or not, I do understand. I understand how easy it is to lose hope in a desperate situation, and how quickly we cling to anything that feels right, no matter how wrong it is deep down. I suspect it's simply human nature."

Jack nodded; of course Ianto would understand. More than anyone on the team, Ianto would have known what it was like. "Lisa."

Ianto inclined his head and continued. "You didn't let me down, Jack. I let  _you_  down. I did everything I could to get you back and at the same time everything to strand you there, stuck in 1941 with Tosh. I shot Owen, one of my own colleagues—albeit a bit of an arse—and put the safety of the Rift over your lives. I didn't have time to be upset about you or the real Jack Harkness or what Tosh said about you and him. I felt too guilty for not helping get you back, for sacrificing you to the past to save the future. I still do."

"You did the right thing," Jack repeated, though he had said it a dozen times to the man already, months ago.

"Maybe," shrugged Ianto. "But I seem to have a bad track record of doing the right thing. I thought I was doing the right thing with Lisa, and look how that ended. I thought I was doing the right thing by trying to stop Owen from opening the Rift, and that ended just as badly."

They were silent for a few moments, each wrapped in their own thoughts. Jack was slightly taken aback and not a little scared at how much alike he and Ianto were at times. He held back a bitter laugh. "To the Torchwood guilt complex," he murmured, lifting his water glass. Ianto met it with an equally cynical smile.

"But here's the rub, Jack. I tried everything to stop Owen. We yelled, we fought—he kicked me a bunch of times." Ianto waved away Jack's shocked expression. "It was nothing. But it was his words that hurt the most. It was the things he said that made me fight him as much as his actions. It was…it was what made me shoot him, even though I told myself I did it to protect the world as well."

"I don't believe it," Jack said, and Ianto shook his head.

"You should. I am just as capable of the next man of catering to his shallowness."

"I still don't believe it," Jack replied confidently. "But for the record…what did he say?"

Ianto was silent as he stared at his hands. Then he looked up and met Jack's eyes again with a clear gaze. "He called me your part-time shag. He obviously thought that was the only reason I was trying to stop him. For you."

Jack held back a frustrated sigh at Owen's words. "That doesn't make sense, though."

"Owen's always considered me a bit of a lapdog," Ianto said, the bitterness unmistakable. "He seemed to think the only reason I was following your orders was because we were sleeping together."

"How did he even know?" asked Jack. Frankly, he was slightly surprised Ianto hadn't shot the doctor more than once for his cruel comments.

"He didn't." Ianto shrugged. "He was just implying it in order to get to me. And it did, but in a different way." He finished his soda and set it down with a hard thump. "God, I could go for a coffee right now."

"Ianto?" Jack asked, hoping the man would continue. Ianto nodded reluctantly.

"I wasn't insulted, because frankly it was true, wasn't it? I was your part-time shag, and you were mine. That's what it was." He took a deep breath in order to continue, looking over Jack's shoulder past him. "But I realized two things in that moment. One, that even though it was what it was, I didn't want that anymore. And it had nothing to do with Owen saying it out loud, it just struck me that 'part-time shag' was a rather horrible way of defining something between two people, no matter how casual it was, and I wanted it to be something different, maybe something more. But then I realized that I was trying to stop Owen from saving you and Tosh, and I hated myself, because how could I do that, to a part-time shag yet alone someone I missed more than anything?"

"So you shot him," Jack offered, a smile smirking at his lips.

"And so I shot him." Ianto ran his hands through his hair. "I was pissed off at him, disappointed in myself, and confused as hell about you. I wanted you back, Jack, I really did. But I was so scared about what might happen to the Rift that I had to try to stop him." He shook his head. "It was a half-arsed try, though, when you think about it."

"I'm glad it was," Jack murmured. "I couldn't have done that all again, lived through the 20th century a second time, losing Tosh and waiting to catch up to you. So in a way, your half-arsed shot saved me from that."

"Owen saved you," Ianto insisted. "I would have condemned you."

"I don't believe that," Jack replied. "I think you would have found a different way, a better way."

"One that didn't release a monster from Hell and get you killed almost immediately after we'd already shot you?"

"Owen shot me," Jack pointed out.

"We didn't stop him," Ianto replied.

"You were manipulated." He paused. "And I realized while I was gone that I was too. I was manipulated to not trust you, to say horrible things, to goad you into turning on me. I'm just as guilty in all this, Ianto. Perhaps even more so."

"How do you figure?"

"Because before it was barely over, I ran away and left." Jack's voice had dropped to a whisper. "Without a word."

Ianto met his eyes, and for a long moment, they simply sat there, quiet. Finally he nodded. "You did. And now you're back."

"For good." Jack cleared his throat as his voice cracked with emotion. "For you."

And just like that, the mood seemed to shift. Ianto rolled his eyes, but offered half a smile. "You keep saying that."

"Maybe someday you'll believe it," Jack tossed back, starting to grin as well.

"If I do, will you stop repeating yourself?" Ianto asked. There was a hint of teasing in his voice that Jack hadn't heard since they'd sat down to talk.

"Nope," he replied. "I'll crow it from the rooftops just to be sure."

"You are good on roofs," Ianto murmured, eyes now twinkling.

"So I've been told."

Ianto sighed. "I am sorry, you know. For everything that happened before you left."

"I know." Jack took Ianto's hand once more. "And I'm sorry for everything since."

"We're a right pair, aren't we?" Ianto laughed, and Jack joined him.

"It works for us," said Jack.

Ianto ran his tongue across his lips and sighed. "I hope so." He stood abruptly, letting go of Jack's hand. "Come on, this is no way to end the night, moping around the pub."

Jack followed him out, quiet as they stepped back into the cool night air. He tucked his hands into his pockets as he walked beside Ianto, trying not to be disappointed that the night was apparently over. Glancing up at the clear sky, Jack smiled to himself. For a first date, it had been a bit of a roller coaster, but he wouldn't change anything about it. It worked for them, romantic or not, and he hoped more than anything that it was the first of many such nights spent together, a date with Ianto Jones.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't play pool, so if I missed something, I apologize. Then the story deviated wildly when Jack and Ianto started talking about 1941! Hope that works, it was fun to work out their reactions to that particular adventure. Many thanks to Tamaar for the stamp of approval. One more chapter to go! Thanks for reading!


	6. 2.15

_ 2.15 _

"Thanks for suggesting the pub. I really enjoyed it." Jack glanced sideways and grinned as they walked back toward Ianto's flat. "Even if you did kick my arse up and down the pool table."

"Yes, well you can practice when the table I ordered for the Hub arrives," Ianto replied.

Jack looked like he wasn't sure whether or not to believe him, and Ianto found he rather enjoyed keeping the man guessing; usually he was the one wondering how many of Jack's tall tales were actually true. "I think I will. Because I'd like to do it again sometime."

"What, have your pants handed to you?" Jack opened his mouth to respond, but Ianto held up a hand, immediately regretting the huge opportunity he'd offered. "Don't say it."

"You started it."

"And I'm already over it."

"Well, I would." Ianto narrowed his eyes, wondering whether Jack was still continuing with the innuendo or referring to the pub.

"Would what?"

"I would like to do  _this_ again sometime," said Jack, gesturing around them. "Go to a pub, play a game or too. Maybe darts next time, or snooker. I've been here for decades, and I still don't know the difference between snooker and pool."

"One is Welsh, the other isn't," Ianto answered. "Why?"

"Why what?" Jack asked, parroting back Ianto's confusion.

"Why would you want to go back there? It's just my local."

"It was fun, more relaxing than the restaurant, definitely better than the movie—and we weren't interrupted by a copper."

"I liked the restaurant," Ianto offered quickly. "The food was fantastic, and they did have candles."

Jack laughed through his nose and bumped Ianto's shoulder. "What's with you and candles? We don't do romance, remember? Maybe that's what I liked about it. Just us, two guys playing pool, enjoying one another's company without trying so hard."

"Don't forget the part about awkwardly baring their souls to one another," Ianto murmured, still a little shell-shocked by everything they'd shared with one another, from dinner to the beach to the pub. Jack made a sound in agreement, unusually taciturn as he glanced away, then looked up in surprise when he noticed Ianto holding out his elbow for Jack to take his arm.

"I liked it too," Ianto replied with a genuine smile. "I enjoyed the whole night, romance and all."

"So we  _can_  do romance?" Jack teased, and Ianto pretended to affect a sigh as they walked arm in arm down the dark street.

"Once in a while, I suppose."

They reached Ianto's flat. Jack walked him to the door of the building and withdrew his arm. "Just say when."

Ianto cocked an eyebrow as he opened the door, somehow not surprised at the words that slipped from his lips. "How about now?"

"What?" Jack had obviously not been expecting any sort of invitation upstairs. Ianto knew Jack had planned on taking things slowly—they had both agreed it was for the best—though their brief escapade on the beach had sorely tested their resolution. Ianto really liked being able to surprise the man, though.

"Would you like to come inside?" Ianto asked again, hiding a grin at Jack's confusion; he clearly wanted to, but it was also obvious that Jack didn't want to ruin a good night.

"I don't want to assume anything—" Jack started, and Ianto laughed as he started inside, knowing that Jack would follow him.

"Then don't. Come have a cup of coffee."

"It's almost two in the morning, Ianto," Jack tried again. Ianto was impressed with Jack's token protests. A part of him wanted to turn toward Jack, pull him close, and drag him inside. Over the course of the night, he felt as if they had grown closer emotionally, and he didn't want it to end. His body was practically screaming at him to get closer physically as well; it had been a long time, after all. Jack obviously didn't want to ruin the progress they'd made toward patching up the many issues between them, and neither did Ianto. Yet a cup of coffee couldn't hurt, right? They were grown men in control of their thoughts and actions.

"Don't tell anyone, but I can make brilliant decaf." They were in front of Ianto's door now, Jack having followed him all the way up the stairs to his second floor flat and down the corridor.

"You actually have decaffeinated coffee in your flat?" Jack asked, sounding incredulous.

"I keep the good stuff at home. Decaf at the Hub means a transgression of some sort and does not merit high quality."

Stepping into the flat behind Ianto, Jack laughed. "You are a devious man, Ianto Jones."

"I try my best." He held back the 'sir'; this was neither the time for deference, nor the time for seduction—at least, not yet.

When Ianto moved to take Jack's coat, Jack shrugged out of it himself and held it in his arms. "You don't have to do that, you know. I can hang up my own coat."

"I know," replied Ianto, taking the coat from Jack's hands anyway. "But you love it."

"Of course I do," Jack replied with a shameless grin. "That still doesn't mean you should."

"Are you actually asking me  _not_ to undress you?" Ianto asked casually as he laid Jack's coat carefully over a nearby chair and moved into the kitchen. Jack groaned behind him.

"Never. And I will not be held accountable for my actions if you keep talking like that."

Ianto smirked as he set about making them both a cup of coffee. He was just as deliberate in his own kitchen as he was at the Hub: he set a kettle of water to boil, ground the decaf beans, and let the French press brew the coffee as he pulled out the mugs from the cabinet above the counter. He added a splash of Irish cream that earned him a nod of approval from Jack, then poured the coffee and handed him the steaming mug. Leaning back against the counter across from where Jack sat at his small kitchen table, Ianto couldn't help but sigh with contentment as he inhaled the scent of the warm liquid within.

Jack did the same and groaned again.

Ianto rolled his eyes.

Jack grinned. "You love it. And you've been holding back. I can barely tell this is decaf."

"You'll thank me when it doesn't keep you up all night." Ianto stood up straighter and inclined his head toward the doorway. "Would you like to sit in the living room?" he asked. He'd rather make himself comfortable instead of drinking his coffee while standing awkwardly in the kitchen.

"Of course," Jack said, following Ianto into the main room. Ianto sat down on the sofa, bringing one leg up underneath him as he curled his fingers around his mug and sighed again. Jack sat on the other side of the sofa, facing sideways with an equally content smile on his face. When Branwen jumped up between them and started purring, Ianto couldn't imagine any better picture of domestic bliss, and he chuckled under his breath.

Jack did not laugh. Instead, he was watching Ianto with a warm, lopsided grin. Ianto thought he might have even seen affection there, but didn't want to get his hopes up. They were silent for a long moment, which meant that they naturally both spoke at the same time when they were ready to talk.

"You go first," Jack said, setting his empty mug down on a nearby table. He swung one arm over the back of the sofa, looking casual and comfortable. Ianto motioned toward the table as he sipped as his own drink.

"Refill?"

"No thanks." Jack shook his head with a smile. "I've had so much to eat and drink tonight I feel like I might burst."

Ianto laughed into his own half-full mug. "So no late-night pizza order then?"

"We'd practically be eating it for breakfast," Jack pointed out. "Maybe next time." He stopped with a frown, blue eyes uncertain. "If you wanted a next time, that is."

Jack's unexpected apprehension surprised Ianto. "It wasn't obvious?" he asked, hiding a smile.

"You said you had a good time," Jack replied, gazing at the back of the sofa, where his left hand played idly with a loose thread. "But I don't know if that means you'd like to go out again."

"We have a lunch date on Tuesday," Ianto pointed out, setting his mug down next to Jack's. He moved slightly closer when he sat up again, mirroring Jack's posture, but with his right hand tucked against his temple.

"That's right," Jack said, feigning surprise. "But I suspect the others might want to join us, so maybe we could have dinner again next weekend? Rift willing."

"Rift willing, I'd like that." Ianto let his hand fall to lay with Jack's on the back of the sofa. He traced lazy patterns over Jack's palm as he thought about his next words. "We could do something casual, like the pub, or we could eat here, if you wanted."

"Take away?" asked Jack. "Pizza and a DVD, maybe?"

Ianto shrugged. "Or that rarest of rarities, a home-cooked meal."

The look that passed across Jack's face made Ianto warm inside: confused at first, then so happy and content that it was all Ianto could do to keep himself from wrapping his hand around Jack's head and pulling him forward for a heated kiss. Instead he simply basked in the glow of Jack's obvious pleasure.

"Are you as good at cooking as you are at pool?" Jack teased, and Ianto affected another dramatic sigh.

"Alas, my skills at the pub do not always extend to the cooker. I can make a mean curry, though."

Jack's eyebrows about flew off his head. "You can?"

"I can. I watched Lisa do it a dozen times. I finally tried it myself one night with Tosh, and she declared it a crowning success."

"Was there wine involved?" asked Jack, obviously trying to hold back a smirk. Fast as a whip, Ianto pulled the pillow from behind him and smacked Jack across the knees with it.

"Talk like that and there won't be wine  _or_  candles," he warned, and was rewarded when Jack laughed.

"Then I'll stop, because I know you liked them at the restaurant." Ianto had stopped his exploration of Jack's hand, and now Jack took it up, running his thumb in circles over Ianto's wrist. "What were you going to say earlier?" he asked.

Ianto took a breath, unsure why the thought had popped into his head but knowing he probably wouldn't rest until he voiced it.

"I won't ask where you went, Jack, or what happened that you were held captive for an entire year. I won't ask if you found your answers, or if you're going back to him someday." He looked up and met Jack's eyes, which were full of pain and heartache and…was that fear? Ianto shook his head and squeezed Jack's hand hard.

"You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to, ever. But I do have one more question that I hope you'll answer truthfully."

Jack swallowed nervously. "Thank you. And I'll do my best to answer honestly, I promise." Ianto believed him and moved closer.

"How are you, Jack?"

Jack let out a sound that was half laugh, half sob.

"You're the only person who's asked me that since I returned," he whispered.

"Does anyone else know?" Ianto asked. "Because I'm sure if they did, they would ask…" He trailed off at the look on Jack's face.

"Owen would ignore it, Tosh would avoid it, and Gwen…Gwen would hide her disappointment by reassuring me that I was fine because I'm immortal." There was a bitterness in his voice that Ianto rarely heard when Jack spoke about the team, especially Gwen. Yet, Ianto knew Jack was right, particularly about her. For such a remarkably intelligent and compassionate woman, she often failed to see when those closest to her were hurting. It was as if she couldn't accept any fallibility in those she loved, and even Ianto had felt the pressure of it while Jack was gone. That Jack had realized it as well and accepted it meant…well, it meant something that Ianto didn't want to think about right then. He needed to focus on Jack.

"But are you?" he asked. "Are you fine?"

Jack glanced at their hands before meeting his eyes. "I have good days and bad days. I was a prisoner for a year. I was in chains for most of that, and…" he took a deep breath before continuing, "…and I was tortured by a madman who knew I couldn't die."

"Oh Jack." Ianto could not help that his heart went out to Jack at that moment, even though he knew it would likely never come back. The truth of Jack's words was evident in the anguish Ianto could see in Jack's eyes, a pain he suspected the others would never see, or certainly never recognize yet alone acknowledge. Ianto knew that pain, because he had seen it in his own eyes after Canary Wharf. He had not lived the long life Jack had and could hardly compare his burdens to a man who was immortal and had experienced all that Jack had gone through in his long life, but he could at least relate to the aftermath—to dealing with the pain and anger, guilt and shame. Trying to keep going, to move on from the heartbreak, to live and even love again. He had always recognized that struggle in Jack, but at that moment he realized it was far deeper than anyone knew.

Wrapping his hand in Jack's, he gently tugged the other man toward him. Jack fell easily into Ianto's arms, laying his head against Ianto's chest as if he had been hoping for that exact moment ever since they had stepped into the flat. Ianto ran a hand down Jack's back, feeling the tension there and wishing there was something he could do besides stroke it away. "Did he ever ask you?" Ianto murmured softly. "The Doctor?"

There was another bitter laugh from the region of Ianto's shoulder. And then Jack spoke quietly, his words leaving Ianto in shock.

"Before we were captured, the Doctor told me I was wrong, that I was impossible. He said he couldn't fix me. And then we were caught, and when we escaped, it was almost as if nothing had happened. He mourned the man who had taken us and tortured us, but he never once asked if I was all right when it was all over." Jack sat up and stared intently into Ianto's eyes.

"He asked me if I wanted to join him again and travel together. I was a Companion once, you know, and in the back of my mind I think I wanted to be a Companion again. But he had abandoned me, and while I was a prisoner I didn't think about traveling with him again. All I could think about was coming back here, to Earth. Home."

Ianto leaned forward and kissed Jack's forehead, quick and simple, before running a hand across his cheek. "I'm so sorry about what happened to you. I can't imagine what it was like, how difficult it was."

Jack smiled, a genuine smile that was open, honest, and filled with relief. "It's over, that's what matters. And I came back because through it all this is where I wanted to be." When Ianto nodded in understanding—he had fled to his home after Canary Wharf, after all, albeit for different reasons—Jack shook his head. "No, right here. Together, with you, right now."

Ianto was almost too choked up to speak, and instead pulled Jack close to him once more. "I'm glad you're here," he whispered into Jack's hair. He blinked rapidly against the wetness threatening his eyes and cleared his throat, his voice rough with emotion. "I missed you."

He could feel Jack smiling against his chest. "How much?" Jack asked. There was a lighter tone slipping into his voice that filled Ianto with relief.

"A bit," Ianto replied, holding back a grin and glad to be moving away from the difficult conversations again.

"A bit?" asked Jack, with a hint of a pout. "That's all?"

"Hmm…I'd say quite a bit, but I don't want it go to your head."

Jack nodded. "But enough to go on a date with me, at least."

"It was a nice restaurant," Ianto pointed out. "They had candles."

Jack laughed as he shook his head and sat up, returning to his end of the sofa. Ianto was surprised at Jack's continued restraint, as well as curious and concerned. And perhaps slightly disappointed, though that feeling was complicated. Although he had voiced many of his doubts and concerns about Jack's return, Ianto was still wary of leaping into a real relationship. They'd been casual lovers when Jack had left so abruptly, perhaps leaning toward more but certainly never acknowledging anything resembling interest.

And then Jack had got stuck in 1941, Ianto had betrayed him, Owen had shot him, and Jack had disappeared for months. Definitely not conducive to a relationship, even one as unusual as theirs.

Yet Ianto  _had_  missed Jack, more than he had admitted to anyone yet alone to himself. He had moved on and done his job and survived; he'd developed a mean pool game, an even better shot in the field, and was stronger and more confident than he had been a year ago when he'd first started at Torchwood Three. Yet nothing had felt the same for any of the team while Jack had been gone. Now that Jack was back, Ianto suspected the others felt the same as he did: it was right. Everything was going back to normal, slowly but surely. Jack was their leader, their Captain. He was Torchwood. And though he tried to deny it, everything in Ianto was drawn to Jack once again, even more than before. He was Torchwood too, it seemed.

He felt a strong desire to comfort Jack, knowing he'd gone through hell when he'd left them. Jack kept people at a distance to protect himself from getting hurt, but Ianto knew that Jack needed someone to support him, if he would only accept it and let them in. Ianto also wanted to resume the physical relationship they'd shared for several amazing months; sex with Jack had always been incredible, in a way Ianto had experienced with very few others.

More than anything, though, Ianto just wanted to be with Jack and spend time with him. He'd come to enjoy the late night talks and early morning chats they'd enjoyed before Jack had left; he'd loved every minute of field work together; and he had missed Jack's teasing and flirting as much as anything else about the man. Ianto had been slightly nervous about going on an actual date with Jack, but it had been better than he had hoped, the two of them doing something as normal as dinner and a movie and pub. Jack was his boss and colleague, his friend, his one-time lover, and Ianto wanted more now that he'd experienced a glimpse of what it could be; he suspected Jack wanted it too, but there were still so many obstacles to overcome.

Ianto didn't even realize he'd been staring at Jack until the other man waved his hand in front of Ianto's face. Ianto grinned sheepishly and apologized. Jack leaned forward and kissed him, a quick but wonderful kiss that spoke less of passion and heat and more of tenderness and comfort.

"It's late. I should get back to the Hub so you can sleep." He stood, though Ianto was certain he saw reluctance in Jack's eyes. He didn't want to leave, but was trying so hard to do the right thing as he picked up his coat and headed toward the door.

When had they ever done anything right?

"You don't have to go, Jack," Ianto said as Jack started to slip on his coat. He stood and followed Jack toward the door.

"I should," Jack replied. He caressed Ianto's cheek. "I don't want to, god I don't want to leave ever again, but I also don't want to ruin such a perfect night."

Ianto knew just as well as Jack did that their perfect night didn't have to end, that it could be even more perfect. He raised an eyebrow, and Jack leaned forward to capture his lips in another brief but more passionate kiss.

"I never thought I'd be the one to hold back," he murmured with a laugh in his voice. "Until I met you."

"You don't have to go," Ianto repeated. He threw caution to wind and stepped forward so that he was chest-to-chest, thigh-to-thigh with Jack. One arm wrapped around Jack's waist while his other hand worked its way up Jack's arm, across his shoulder, and along his neck to rest against the back of Jack's head, fingers running through dark hair. He leaned forward so that his lips hovered against Jack's mouth, teasing the other man.

"I have candles," he whispered, and immediately felt Jack's physical response between them, along with a widening of blue eyes and a slight intake of breath.

"That almost sounds romantic," Jack murmured back.

"Call it quixotic," Ianto replied, and with a smirk of his own and a growl from Jack, the matter was decided as lips met, bodies pressed tightly together, and all thoughts of leaving were abandoned.

Because as with so many things having to do with Torchwood, or perhaps just them, even first dates didn't go as planned.

Sometimes they turned out even better.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End!  
> Many thanks to Tamaar for once again offering her stamp of approval on this chapter. I hate doubting myself, but sometimes I do, and so a little reassurance goes a long way in believing I've done right by these characters. I hope you agree and enjoyed the story. Do let a girl know, yeah? Thanks for reading!


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